A Serious Conditon
by oyb
Summary: Hermione needs a date to a company function. One shot.


The heavy front door swung open violently, rattling the nearby portraits.

"How rude!" A grumpy-looking wizard pulled himself back into the armchair he had been so suddenly ejected from, righting his hat with a scowl.

Agile footsteps zigzagged throughout the ancient house, throwing open door after door until, finally, they halted just outside the library.

A breath of dust crawled beneath the doorframe, settling on the threadbare rug.

"Get dressed!"

A sleepy wizard, clad only in drawstring pajama pants, stared wide-eyed at the closed door, gripping his mug of hot tea and hoping against hope that the incensed bookworm would pass his door by without throwing it off its hinges.

As always, it seemed, he had no such luck.

Hermione Jean Granger heaved the large oak door open, still trying to catch her breath from her sprint about Grimmauld Place.

"Deaf, are you? Get. Dressed."

Sirius exhaled, setting his mug of tea on a nearby end table, fearful that another screaming fit from her would have him spilling it all over his favorite appendage.

He had had this notion before, but at the moment it rang more true than ever. Seeing Hermione so heated, cheeks flushed and eyes alight, was undeniably sexy.

But instead of divulging the unclean thoughts he was having at the moment, Sirius folded his hands and placed them into his lap, ready at last to address the young woman fuming in the doorway. "What ever might you be referring to, Miss Hermione?"

Hermione trudged into the room, flopping into one of the leather armchairs, a plume of dust enveloping her.

"I need a date."

"Well, that much is obvious."

"Be serious for once."

He chuckled.

"You know that prat I was dating at the Ministry, Higgins? Well, we broke up two _weeks_ ago and he's already dating his assistant, some blonde tart with stilts for legs." She paused, reaching for Sirius's mug of tea, hoping it might be filled with something a bit stronger.

Of course Sirius remembered Higgins. They had only dated for a few months and she'd just recently introduced him at one of Molly's "family" dinners, but seeing her walk into the Burrow wrapped around some Ministry official that night stung far more than expected.

"Ah, yeah… Sounds familiar."

"Well, there's a M.O.M. function tonight and it's _mandatory_ that all employees attend. I couldn't bear to go _stag_. I was hoping to find Remus or one of the twins lurking about and rope them into coming, but this place is a ghost house."

Again, he felt an unexpected twinge of jealousy. Why hadn't she hoped to find _him_ lazing about, ready for an evening out with her?

"Nope. The boys went out to the Leaky for a pint. I'm still nursing a hangover from last night. Thought lounging in the dark library _undisturbed_ would be a better cure."

Desperate, Hermione pushed herself to her feet and sauntered over to Sirius, forcing him against the back of the sofa, leaving room for her to hop into his lap.

"You're not going to make me beg, are you Sirius?" Hermione cooed.

Tenderly, she parted his hands and placed them loosely around her waist, winding her own arms around the older wizard's neck.

The sudden intimate contact had Sirius wishing he had been wearing a considerably thicker pair of pants.

Hermione's chocolate eyes stared determinedly at him from under thick lashes, resting her chin on his bare shoulder, coaxing a response.

One more minute of Hermione squirming around in his lap and Sirius would find himself in a dreadfully awkward situation.

"Alright, alright… I'll go."

Hermione squealed, tightening her arms around Sirius's neck and kissing him chastely on the cheek before leaping to her feet.

"Oh, thank you!"

"You're lucky I promised James I'd never turn down a night out with a pretty witch."

Hermione paused, turning seriously to the man still sitting on the sofa.

"So that's what you've named _it_, huh? James?" She wrinkled her nose, grinning. "A bit odd."

Sirius was up in an instant, chasing Hermione out of the library and down a flight of stairs. "You cheeky girl! Maybe I'll just go owl Ron and see if I could borrow his old dress robes for a night out on the town."

He heard her stumble, nearly trying the trick stair. "You wouldn't dare!"

Sirius waited a floor up from Hermione, leaning over the balcony to see her and waggle his eyebrows.

"Why don't you go doll yourself up and I'll _surprise _you."

She returned his threat with a scowl, disappearing down the hallway and into her room.

Strolling into his own room, Sirius smiled to himself.

He would rather return to the veil than be caught by Kreacher wearing that moth-eaten atrocity. Not to mention that Hermione would hex his balls off, were he to make good on his threat.

After scouring his impressive closet, Sirius could find only one suit that hadn't been claimed by Teddy and his finger-paints: a slim-fitting dark green suit.

Threading the last button of his black dress shirt, Sirius pulled on his suit jacket, checking himself in the mirror for dust, tears, and finger-paint.

As he was looping a black leather belt into his trousers, a creak sounded from the doorway.

"No peeking!" Sirius shrieked dramatically, bounding over to the door and throwing it open.

Sirius was about to tease the girl lurking behind his bedroom door about her irrational fear of Ron's dress robes from the Yule Ball, but could no longer find the words.

This was most definitely not the young schoolgirl, who had saved him from an unimaginable death so many years ago, standing before him now.

Hermione's unruly curls had been secured in a messy bun at the back of her head, leaving her pale throat and shoulders bare apart from a pair of tiny straps holding a fitted knee-length grey dress, the same grey as his eyes, to her slight frame.

"Too much?" She inquired nervously, stepping into his room.

Sirius cleared his throat, turning away from Hermione to keep himself from taking her there in the hallway.

But before he could answer, she had dashed around to his front, conjuring a tie the same color as her dress (and his eyes).

Even in her black pumps, Hermione stood a head shorter than Sirius.

This afforded Sirius a sinful view down Hermione's front that he willed himself not to indulge in.

"A tie too, kitten? _That_ may be too much."

Hermione rolled her smoky eyes, dusting the lapels of Sirius's jacket.

"Very funny. It's for you."

Sirius made a sound of protest, but quickly quieted himself as Hermione tugged him down by the same lapels she had been previously dusting.

Very carefully, she wrapped the tie over the back of his neck, tucking it carefully beneath the collar of his shirt.

As she meticulously crafted a flawless knot, Sirius stared down at her nimble hands, enveloped by the smell of her hair: lavender and pear. He had placed his own hands firmly into his pockets, busying them with his pocket watch and wand, to keep from reaching out to touch her.

She looked as lovely as he had ever seen her. The dark grey silk contrasted wonderfully with the creaminess of her skin. Her eyes had been painstakingly painted; her cheeks stained a subtle pink.

Hermione was now securing the perfect knot just under Sirius's collar, her fingers dipping into the hollow of his throat for a moment.

Her breath caught.

And then it happened. A long tendril of hair cascaded from Hermione's bun, tearing down the last of Sirius's resolve. It mocked him, brushing lightly against her cheek as she smoothed down his tie, careful to avoid his gaze.

Tentatively, as though he might spook her, Sirius lifted his hand to her chin, tilting her head upwards, effectively turning her attention away from the grey tie she still grasped nervously.

Hermione could not gather the courage to look at her best friend's godfather, choosing instead to keep her eyes shut, her lips parted slightly.

Sirius smiled at her innocence, his fingers ghosting over her cheek to fasten the rogue lock behind her ear as he lowered his face to hers.

At the feeling of the marauder's breath on her face, the scent of peppermint tea washing over her, Hermione cautiously opened her eyes, her hands losing grip of his tie as she became aware of their close proximity.

"We're going to be late," Sirius purred.

It was more of a question than a statement.

Attend the party and disregard this little exchange, or allow this moment to develop into something that would be far more difficult to forget?

But Hermione declined to answer Sirius, neither removing herself from the situation or begging him to shag her senseless, she instead lifted a hand to curl her index finger into a dark lock of his hair.

Acutely aware of the consequences that might befall him were he to show her unwanted affection, Sirius remained still.

After what seemed like hours, Hermione answered Sirius with a simple gesture.

She walked her fingers agonizingly slow up the flat plains of his torso, and as she raised her eyes to meet his gaze, seized the silk tie and pulled it swiftly from his neck.

Sirius had picked Hermione up by the backs of her thighs and was hoisting her onto the nearby dresser before the tie had fluttered to the floor, stepping boldly between her parted thighs. He wasted no time, his hands dipping immediately beneath her dress, fingers grazing leisurely along her outer thighs, reaching for the waistband of her knickers. The older wizard leaned over Hermione, his nose brushing intimately against her own, his hooded eyes willing hers to remain open as he dissolved their easy friendship.

The breath was pulled from Hermione's lungs as she felt Sirius ease the lace knickers over her hips and down her thighs, dropping them to the floor with the tie.

"Tell me to stop," He whispered in a rough voice, his hand snaking beneath her dress once more, this time tracing the length of her inner thigh.

Hermione inhaled sharply as his long fingers neared the apex of her thighs, one hand twisting into his hair while the other hurriedly unclasped the buttons of his shirt. Inching to the very edge of the dresser, she breathed into his ear, "You wouldn't dare."

A low growl rumbled deep in Sirius's chest, her hot breath on his neck spurring him on.

Sirius raised his free hand to Hermione, dragging his thumb down her bottom lip as he pushed two fingers into her. Still avoiding her mouth, he kissed reverently down her jaw and throat, running the bridge of his nose down her neck to her shoulder where he sunk his teeth into the pale span of skin.

His fingers pumped in and out of her with fervor, tearing low moans and silent gasps from the beautiful witch. Her feet had long since wound themselves around Sirius's trim waist, pulling his core flush against her own. Hermione's hands began working feverishly at his belt, desperate to feel deliciously filled by him.

But Sirius denied her, batting her hands away from his trousers and pinning them in one hand high above her head. His teeth pulled one thin grey strap down her shoulder, exposing her right breast to him, quick to cover it with his mouth.

It was when he felt the erratic pulse of her fast-approaching orgasm that he had paused for a moment to catch her eyes, revealing to her in a tender look that she wasn't like the other girls; the ones he was always bringing home from the bars, the ones that took his mind off of her. She would be his, and he would be hers, if she would have him.

And curling his fingers into that spongy patch of flesh, Sirius raised his head to Hermione, face flushed with desire and eyes dark with need, and kissed her properly on the mouth.

Sirius released his grip on Hermione's wrists, his hand delving into her chestnut curls to bring her face impossibly closer, whilst his other hand brought her over the edge.

Hermione tensed around Sirius's fingers, her heels digging painfully into his hips as a bright light burst behind her eyes, her hands stroking his cheeks coarse with stubble as he pulled roughly at her lower lip with his teeth.

As each wave of her orgasm lessened, Hermione allowed her feet to fall against the dresser drawers with a thud, her forehead resting against Sirius's bare torso.

She smiled hazily into his chest, "I should invite you to Ministry functions more often."

"We could still make it if we hurry." Sirius grinned, tucking a few sweaty locks of hair away from her face.

Hermione snorted indignantly, pressing both hands against Sirius's chest to right herself.

"I think I'll just owl Kingsley tomorrow notifying him that I'd come down with a _serious _condition."

Sirius beamed, heaving Hermione into his arms and laying her out over his maroon comforter and covering her body with his own.

"You know, I think you're right about that."


End file.
